Bleed It Out
by scorching roses
Summary: Jimmie Zara promised himself he'd never do this, but he did. Will the EH Wildcats be able to save him? He may take help from the familiar new girl. Maybe the resident 'emo' boy? Or he may shut down completely.Abuse/cutting/language. Possible M later on
1. Prologue

AN: So here's the rewritten version of Razor Blade, now called Bleed It Out. Tell me what you think :)

Disclaimer :I do not own anything besides the plot and my OC's.

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In America, two out of every three marriages end in divorce. I bet you think that the one couple that stays together is happy right? Wrong. You are so unbelievably wrong.

You see, my parents are still married, not because they love each other, or for my sake. It's because my father won't let her leave. Why does she want to leave you ask? Well, let me give you some insight on my life for the past say, six years.

They had been happy once. They got married for a reason right? Anyway, back in Texas we were the 'hallmark card' family to the outside world. Happily married parents, still very much in love, a beautiful daughter who got straight A's and was class president, head cheerleader, and outstanding at anything she put her mind to, the son who was captain of his middle school basketball team, excelled in any sport he tried, and made the grades every semester, that was us. The family who was expected to sit around the dinner table with a mouthwatering home cooked meal, made by the stay at home mother while the father was away at work and the kids were school, and talk about all that they'd accomplished that day. The family who went camping every other weekend and had movie nights and lived in a two story house with a porch and white picket fence protecting the flower garden.

Besides the house, all of that is bullshit. Complete bullshit. Yeah Morgan and I got good grades and participated in extra curricular activities, but we did it to get away from the house everyday. There were no home cooked meals, or movie nights, or camping trips. Wanna know what there was a lot of though? Yelling. I'm not sure when it started but behind closed doors, Emmy and Thomas Zara spent a good portion of their time together yelling. It took a toll on Morgan and me. She spent more time up in her room locked away from what we couldn't escape. I snuck out every night to go to the park and have some peace.

On Morgan's 17th birthday, she and I got in a huge fight over her ratting me out. That day, we found out she'd been cutting. Well, I found out when I walked into her room and found her dead. I was 13 and I had sworn to myself, I'd never cut. But this is about my parents.

My mom went into these depressive episodes. She'd mope all day, yell at dad, sleep and do it over again the next day. My dad started working more and I barely saw him, which I was fine with. It was up until eight months ago that I think something snapped. He hit her, he beat her up. Since then he's used her as a punching bag. She wants to leave but she doesn't want to leave me, and she's scared he'll find her. I hate it, but she won't let me call the cops. We moved to New Mexico about 5 months ago, hoping we could start over, but Dad kept doing it and they kept yelling. I decided to join the basketball team at the high school I was attending to be away from them. I never invited anyone home or invited my parents to a game, it wasn't important.

Three weeks ago I convinced my mother to leave. She had to get herself together and prove she could take care of herself before she divorced him. Three weeks ago my father came home drunk and when he found out she was gone, beat me until I could hardly move. Three weeks ago was the first time I broke the only promise I'd ever made to myself.

My name is James Thomas Zara, and I'm a cutter.

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There's the first chapter (:

xoxo

Scorching Roses


	2. Solace

**AN : Here's the next one!**

**Disclaimer : I own nothing.

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"Wake up!" my dad yelled, flipping the mattress so I toppled to the ground. Unfortunately I face planted and my nose started to bleed from the pressure. I held my hand over it in attempt to keep more blood from dripping onto the carpet. My dad smacked my hand away and gripped my wrist so tight I could already feel the bruise forming. I chanced a glance at the clock and realized it was 4:50 a.m.

"What'd I do?" I asked, still tired.

"Not what you did. What you are going to do." he said as he shoved me onto the couch.

"Huh?"

"You're going to tell your coach that you're resigning from the team." he said.

"What!" I grimaced, knowing my tone would anger him. He didn't disappoint. He grabbed my hair and yanked me down to floor beside the couch and kicked me hard in the stomach.

"Do it or I will. And believe me you won't want to deal with me if I do." he said before walking out the door and heading to work. I laid there for a minute then got up slowly. At least he didn't use the belt like last night..

I walked to the bathroom and noticed the dried blood on my face, neck and shirt. I pulled it off and wiped at the blood on my neck and face, disgusted with the red tinted orange mark it left behind. My fingers twitched and I took a deep breath as I pulled out one of the side drawers and reached to the very back, finding what my body was craving.

It gleamed in the light and it's sharpened edge was begging to be used. I bit my lip and set it down on the sink, deciding to take a shower before I indulged myself.

I turned the water on to an almost boiling temperature before stepping in. I hissed in slight pain but it soothed the welts on my back and chest. I cleaned myself off and washed my hair, deciding I had enough time to stay in until the water got cold and I was wrinkly. I wrapped the towel around my waist and noticed that the bruises my dad left were getting darker. The steam on the mirror had long since been gone. It couldn't prevent me from seeing someone I didn't know. I saw who I'd become in such a short time. I sighed, looking down to my solace. It laid there, begging, taunting…comforting. I pulled out a band-aid and a few tissues before picking up the thin blade. I picked an unmarked space and pressed down, sliding the blade across ivory skin and smiling as it became stained with red. The sense of euphoria made my breath hitch and my mind became blank with pleasure. I made another mark below it and two more above, relishing in the feeling before rinsing off my blade and wiping away the blood. I decided the band aid wouldn't be able to cover all of them so I pulled out some gauze and wrapped my arm where the stinging scars were.

I walked to my bedroom and saw that I was already close to 6:00. Had I really been in the shower that long? I shrugged and went to my phone, seeing a missed call from Chad and a few texts from Donnie. I texted him back and called Chad as I picked out some black skinny jeans and a plaid, gray and black, button up shirt.

"Hello?"

"Yeah Chad, you called? I was in the shower so I didn't hear the phone." I explained as I pulled the sleeves down over my arms and buttoned the cuffs.

"Oh no it's fine, Coach wanted to talk to us before school so how fast can you be ready?" I had already pulled on my socks and some gray vans and was walking to the bathroom to blow dry and straighten my hair.

"Give me like 15 minutes." I said while I brushed out the damp strands.

"Kay well Troy and I will be there in 20. Cool?"

"Yeah." I hung up and finished up in the bathroom, pulling on a black beanie and a necklace I've had since I was about 5. I remembered it was a gift from a friend. It was a bottle cap with the word best on it hanging of an adjustable string. I couldn't remember who'd given it to me but I could never bring myself to take it off unless it was necessary.

I had been in the middle of dropping my iPod into my shirt behind my back and pulling it out to my front pant's pocket, adjusting one ear bud under the front of my shirt and the other in my ear, under my hair, when I heard Chad honking outside. I quickly pulled off the safety guard thing from my phone and ran to the bathroom, grabbing my razor to slip it inside before snapping it back on to my phone . I grabbed my backpack and went outside, plastering on the smile I've had enough time to perfect.

**CHAD**

I waited with Troy and Gabriella in front of Jimmie's house for a minute until he came running to the car. Jimmie's house was nice. It was one story, white, and pretty big. There was a porch and a small rose garden. The backyard was huge and his grass somehow managed to stay really green. The door opening brought me out of my thoughts and Jimmie sat behind Troy, next to Gabriella.

"Hey Jimmie." she smiled in that way only she could and he waved a bit in return. I looked at Troy and laughed because he was knocked out against the window.

"We're gonna go pick up Taylor now, you don't mind riding in the middle do you?" I looked back at him. Something flashed in his eyes. Fear? I couldn't tell because it was gone as soon as it came. He nodded and gave his Jimmie smile that most of the freshman and sophomore, even some junior girls fawned over, but I've never seen him pay mind to anyone other that Sharpay. I smiled back, turning and starting the drive to Taylor's house.

Gabriella made small talk with him, but he never said more than he needed to, which, for Jimmie, was unusual. He looked out the window a lot and I noticed his finger twitching in the slightest. I parked in front of my girlfriend's house and resigned to poking Troy until she came out.

"What? Where's Jimmie? Did we pick him up already?" Troy asked in a sleepy daze. I smacked him upside his head.

"Yeah now wake up." I smirked at his glare, oblivious to Jimmie's reluctance to move to the middle once Taylor got in the car.

"Hey everyone!" she smiled. I blew her a kiss that she pretended to catch and Troy turned back and waved to both her and Jimmie. Gabriella smiled at her and they Taylor looked down at the iPod Touch in Jimmie's hands. They liked him, I could tell. He was young, playful, mischievous, almost like a puppy. They thought of him as a little brother of sorts that they could help with homework and girls and stuff like that. He was pretty much Troy's protégé. As annoyed as he acts around Jimmie, Troy loves the kid like a brother he didn't have.

"So Jimmie, how's English with Mrs. Darbus?" Troy asked. Jimmie glanced up and shrugged.

"It's going good I guess. We're doing poetry right now. She had us memorize our favorite Edgar Allan Poe poem and if she we didn't have one, she would assign them. We have to recite them today." he said, never looking up from his iPod, which again, was strange. Lately it's like he won't look anyone in the face unless he has to.

"So did you get or choose one?" Taylor asked. I could tell she noticed something was off.

"Chose." he said.

"Well.. Which one?" she asked.

"Um.. Annabel Lee." he said and she smiled.

"Oh I love that one! You have it memorized?" he nodded, "Oh could you please recite it?" she asked. He looked at her, thinking about it and nodded, pulling out the headphone and taking a breath.

_"It was many and many a year ago,_

_In a kingdom by the sea, _

_That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee;- _

_And this maiden she lived with no other thought _

_Than to love and be loved by me._

_ I was a child and she was a child,_

_ In this kingdom by the sea, _

_But we loved with a love that was more than love- _

_I and my Annabel Lee- _

_With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. _

_And this was the reason that, long ago, _

_In this kingdom by the sea,_

_ A wind blew out of a cloud_

_ Chilling my beautiful Annabel Lee; _

_So that her high-born kinsman came _

_And bore her away from me,_

_ To shut her up in a sepulcher _

_In this kingdom by the sea. _

_The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, _

_Went envying her and me:-_

_ Yes! that was the reason (as all men know, _

_In this kingdom by the sea)_

_ That the wind came out of a cloud by night, chilling _

_And killing my Annabel Lee. _

_But our love it was stronger by far than the love _

_Of those who were older than we- _

_Of many far wiser than we-_

_ And neither the angels in Heaven above, _

_Nor the demons down under the sea,_

_ Can ever dissever my soul from the soul _

_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:- _

_For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams _

_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; _

_And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes_

_ Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; _

_And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side_

_ Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride, _

_In the sepulcher there by the sea- _

_In her tomb by the sounding sea." _he recited, putting an emotion into his voice that went well with the poem. It was husky, yet smooth and I'm pretty sure would give more reason for girls to fawn over him.

"Wow Jimmie, that was amazing." Gabriella smiled and patted his shoulder, which he smiled and moved slightly out of her reach. It didn't go unnoticed but no one said anything.

"Thanks." he said. I drove into the parking lot and found a spot by a new black mustang. I figured we had a new student and it wouldn't be long until word got around. We all got out and started heading to the school.

**JIMMIE**

"So what does Coach wanna talk about?" I asked, placing one of the buds in my ear and walking to catch up to Troy.

"Not really sure, but no worries man, no one's getting cut." he smiled and clapped his hand between my shoulder blades. My vision blackened for a second as white-hot pain shot through my entire body. I bit my lip and turned, walking backwards away from the offending hand. I laughed a bit to show that I'd gotten his joke. I was going to say something but Jenny, a sophomore with curly, black hair and big, gray eyes, porcelain skin, rosebud lips , called my name. I stopped and waited for her to catch up and noticed that the others had stopped as well.

"Hey, do you have a partner for the lab today?" she asked and I smiled.

"Nope, but I'm guessing that now I do." she rolled her eyes and smirked.

"You have no choice Zara. See you in science." she waved and walked off. I liked Jenny, she didn't throw herself at my like a lot of other girls. Why they do, I really don't understand. But Jenny was different. She laughed at my jokes when she thought they were funny and called me an idiot when they weren't, she didn't pry into my business and actually listened to what I said. I'd be lying if I said I thought she was attractive but I couldn't see her as more than a friend. She said she saw me more like a best friend herself and I was fine with it.

"So Zara," Chad smiled.

"Yeah?" he was starting to say something when the intercom interrupted.

"Will James Zara report to the office? James Zara, report to the office." I looked at the others with a confused stare and walked to the office.

My eyes widened and my throat went dry when I opened the door. My dad stood there, wearing the face he wore for the public. I gulped and walked forward. He motioned for me to follow him to the hallway which was empty as classes had already started.

"So, Jimmie, did you talk to your coach?" he asked, the underlying anger in his tone unmistakable.

"N-no but I was going to I swear it." I stuttered and he chuckled, placing his hand on my upper arm.

"No need. I already did." he squeezed painfully tight and I already knew there would be a new bruise. He dragged me to the bathroom and made sure no one was inside before locking the door. I bit my lip, knowing what was next.

He said nothing. He shoved me against the wall and punched my stomach hard enough for me to double over and hit the ground. He kicked me a few more times and when he finished, walked out like nothing happened. I fought to breathe right and stood shakily.

Black spots clouded my vision and I stumbled into a stall, emptying the contents of my stomach. I felt a bit better afterward and I walked to the sink to rinse my mouth out. A familiar urge took over and my fingers twitched with anticipation. I started to unbutton the cuff of my shirt and the door opened. I snapped my head towards the sound, fearing it was him again but I sighed in relief. It was a junior, Mike I think his name was simply taking a break from class.

"You won't tell will you?" he raised a brow as he pulled out a cigarette box and lighter. I shook my head and he pulled one out. I buttoned the cuff again, the sudden urge gone, when the cigarette box was in my line of vision. I looked up to see him holding out to me.

"You look like you need one." he said, an understanding in his eyes that kind of scared me to be honest. It was like he knew something he shouldn't, something about me he wouldn't tell me he knew. I looked down at the lone cig, waiting to be smoked and bit my lip.

'Fuck it,' I thought, 'I'm not on the team anymore.' I reasoned and took the cigarette from the box, taking the offered lighter as well. It wasn't like I never smoked before but it was never a habit. Something told me it was different now. As I took the first hit, letting the tar filled smoke fill and blacken my lungs, I thought to myself, 'Your losing yourself.' In three weeks I went from being a shoe-in for captain of the basketball team next year, to being beaten on a daily basis, cutting, and smoking in the school bathroom. I exhaled and watched as the smoke spilled from my lips, dancing, disappearing to pollute the world unbeknownst to everyone else.

"It gets better." Mike said, taking the last hit of his stogey and putting it out on the sole of his shoe.

"What?" I asked, watching as he adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. He pointed to my covered arms and repeated himself.

"It gets better." he said, turning and walking out the door. I shook my head.

"No it doesn't." I stated to no one in particular, finishing off the cigarette and heading to English.

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**AN: Review?**


	3. Scottie McAllister

**DO NOT OWN!**

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JIMMIE

As I walked to class, I tried my best to keep myself upright. The pain in my stomach was slowly subsiding the more I forced myself to ignore it. I thought back to what Mike had said and snorted inaudibly. He said it got better. It had been a little over 3 weeks and nothings gotten better. He beat my mom for months, and nothing ever got better. The itch became more prominent. My fingers twitched, wanting to feel the blades smoothness. A constant texture, something to expect. When I touch it, I know it'll be slightly cool, and smooth between my skin. I know the pain it causes and the euphoria that pain creates. A pain I control, a pain that I know I can handle. As my thoughts got darker, I turned them back to Mike. He was a bit shorter than me with icy green eyes and pale skin. I'm not sure if his hair was died black or if it's naturally dark. Probably both. He was labeled the "emo" kid but he didn't care. He talked to people, was liked among a select group, he socialized, partied, smoked, drank, popped pills, you name it, he's probably done it. Aside from that, he did enough work to have an A-B average, teachers and students alike wondered how someone like him could do so well. If he was right, and maybe he has gone through what I am, maybe it was for the same reason. One less thing to get beaten for.

I shook my head of the thought, knowing what that thought trail could lead to. I put in my ear buds, opting to drown everything out for the few moments before I got into class. Fall Out Boy's _'The Music or the Misery' _blasted into my ears and I mouthed the words as I reached my locker. With a grimace, I pulled off my backpack and pulled out what I didn't need for the morning before putting it back on and closing my locker. When I turned, I failed to see the petite girl standing behind me. I nearly knocked her down and bit back a yelp of pain when she gripped my bruised arm to balance herself.

"I'm so sorry," I say pulling off my ear buds and helping her steady herself, ignoring the searing pain flowing through my body.

"It's totally fine. My fault for sneaking up on you." she smiled. I halfway smiled back a bit confused, she seemed so familiar. Her hair was a dark red, near burgundy color, like a red velvet cupcake, her skin was a healthy pale color and her eyes were a chocolate brown color. They were big and expressive, I couldn't help but feel like I'd seen them somewhere before. She was a tiny thing, about 5'3" perhaps, with a nice mouth, straight nose, nice body figure, and chest length hair. I towered over her with my 6'1" frame. She wore an intense blue tank top with Mayday Parade across the front, spandex tight black skinny jeans with rips at the knee and thigh showed off the skin of her toned legs. But around her neck, there was a bottle cap on an adjustable string. It was old and worn, the string, like mine, was getting thin, meaning it would have to be replaced soon. That's when it hit me.

_5 YEARS AGO_

"_I don't want to leave Jimmie." she said, scooting closer to me on the roof of her house. We always came up here late at night when the stars were bright._

"_I don't want you to leave either. You're my best friend Scottie." I looked at her and her eyes brightened._

"_Really?" she asked, the hope clear as bells in her voice._

"_Well duh!" I laughed, "You tell me when you're sad, I tell you when I'm sad and we make each other feel better. When someone picks on you I stand up for you and you do it for me. I tell you everything. I wouldn't do that if you weren't my best friend." she smiled and kissed my cheek. I blushed and she stood up._

"_Wait here." she said, running into her room. She came back out with her hands clasped behind her back. She pulled one out and in it was a brand new bottle cap necklace with the word "_**BEST**_" in block letters on the top. It hung from an adjustable string. "I want you to have it. So you don't forget me." I stood quickly, taking it and putting it on and she did the same with the other necklace that said "_**FRIENDS**_"._

"_I'll never forget you Scottie." I whispered to her as I hugged her for what I had thought was the last time. The next day, as I watched her leave from my window, she turned and waved, one hand gripping the bottle cap on her chest. I touched mine, and waved. The car drove away, taking Scottie away and I whispered those words again._

"_I'll never forget you Scottie."_

Of course! Scottie! Her hair was brown, curly, and untamed back then. Warmth swelled up in me and my smile became so big it hurt my face.

"Scottie?" I ask, wanting to make sure. She raised a brow, confused, before realization crossed her features.

"Jimmie!" she squealed, hugging me tight. I nearly flinched but ignored it. I finally had my Scottie back.

TROY

"You can't be serious." Donny said. I frowned. If Donny didn't know then this wasn't planned. It couldn't have been.

"His father came in and said that Jimmie has chosen to withdraw himself from the team. Now, no matter what, he is still our teammate even if his jersey isn't on." the team nodded and he sighed. Dismissing us from the gym, he called Chad, Donny and I towards him. "Donny, what's going on with him?"

"I honestly don't know. He's never let me know too much about him. I've only ever been to his house once. And lately he's been…jumpy." he said sadly.

"It's okay Dion. You can get to class." he nodded and walked out of the gym. Once he was gone, Coach turned to us. "Talk to him." we nodded and left, heading to Mrs. Darbus's class.

JIMMIE

"God, it's been so long!" she said, locking her fingers in my hand so I could lead her to our first hour. I could feel my face heat up at the contact and I had to fight the urge to pull away.

"Yeah, how've you been?" I ask.

"Good." she smiled.

"That's good ." I say as we get to the room.

"Well Mr. Zara, glad you've decided to join us." she said. I just walked back to my seat. "You must be Miss McAllister." Scottie nodded. "Miss McAllister, are you fan of Edgar Alan Poe?" she asked.

"Yes, I love his short stories and poems."

"Do you have any memorized?" she nodded. "Good because you'll be going after Mr. Zara." she gave me a pointed look and I stood, fighting the urge to roll my eyes and made my way up to the front of the classroom. I recited Annabel Lee, which I had already known by memory for a while before the assignment, as it was my favorite poem and sat down, watching Scottie bite her lip again and walk up to the front.

"_Take this kiss upon the brow!_

_And, in parting from you now,_

_Thus much let me avow-_

_You are not wrong, who deem_

_That my days have been a dream;_

_Yet if hope has flown away_

_In a night, or in a day,_

_In a vision, or in none,_

_Is it therefore the less gone?_

_All that we see or seem_

_Is but a dream within a dream._

_I stand amid the roar_

_Of a surf-tormented shore,_

_And I hold within my hand_

_Grains of the golden sand-_

_How few! yet how they creep_

_Through my fingers to the deep,_

_While I weep-while I weep!_

_O God! can I not grasp_

_Them with a tighter clasp?_

_O God! can I not save_

_One from the pitiless wave?_

_Is all that we see or seem_

_But a dream within a dream?_"

She smiled nervously and walked back to the desk beside mine.

"Was I good?" she whispered.

"You were great." I assured her. A few presentations later and class was almost over. Troy walked in and said something to Mrs. Darbus. She looked at me and nodded. He motioned for me to follow him and Chad as they walked out to the hallway. I sighed and saluted Scottie as I grabbed my stuff and walk out. She waved discreetly before the door closed and I could no longer see her.

"What's going on Jimmie?" Troy asked.

"Nothing, why?" he and Chad rolled their eyes.

"Why'd you quit Zara?" Chad asked. I felt the nerves become more prominent. And with them, the urge. It was getting stronger and my razor was calling out. Begging me to relieve myself of the tension that never seemed to disappear from my body.

"None of your business Danforth." I spat, surprising them and myself. I sighed, "Look, things haven't been great and I just need more time to help out at home. Okay?" they seemed skeptical but nodded and the bell rang, I pushed past them harder than I meant to and started making my way to the roof, hoping that once I got there, no one would be around to stop me from my fix this time.


	4. Mike Danvers

**ATTENTION: CHAPTER 3 WAS REWRITTEN**

**Disclaimer : I don't own anything except my OC's and the plotline.  
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JIMMIE

I stood at the edge of the roof and breathed in deeply. Ever since Morgan died there's been a feeling in my chest like I can't breathe right. Like I'm slowly suffocating, getting deeper and deeper into this hole that I've created and the light is a mere speck that I can't even dream of ever seeing again. I was surprised to feel a tear roll down my face. I wiped it away quickly and kept myself from letting the others fall. I unbuttoned the cuff of my sleeve and hastily rolled it up, pulling the razor from it's spot behind the safe guard of my phone and let out a slow breath. The blade pressed to my skin and I slid it across. Once. Twice. Three times. It sliced through and that euphoric feeling tingled throughout my entire body.

For a second, I was no longer at school. I was in one of my good dreams, the one where Morgan and I would sit and talk about nothing for hours. The one where both she and I are clean. No scars, no pain. I let myself have this rare moment of happiness because it's all I have.

A cough behind me breaks me out of my reverie and I turn, hiding my arm behind my back quickly. I was relieved that it was only Mike.

"Whatcha doing Zara?" he smirked. I glare at him, taking some Kleenex out of my bag and wiping the blood off my forearm before pulling out a big bandage and covering the stinging scars. He lifts is arm in mock surrender, a cigarette visible between his fingers.

"Why are you here?" I snap.

"Well, before you flatter yourself, there are no camera's up here. And I come here during free period to smoke my stogie. Sometimes something a little stronger." he winked. I raised a brow and snorted, reaching for the recently lit cigarette when he offered and taking a drag.

"Stronger?" I ask, thinking he wouldn't be that rebellious as to smoke weed in school. Then it I realize, it really isn't a big deal.

"Yep. I have some on me. Want some?" he asks, exhaling the toxic smoke. It's sorely tempting but I shake my head. He simply shrugs, handing me the cig again. "Suit yourself." We stay in a comfortable silence for a while, both deciding to skip out on third and fourth hour, seeing as being up here was a lot better than being stuck in a classroom with a teacher I don't listen to and people I don't like. Then I remember what he said in the bathroom earlier today.

"Hey Mike.." I say, hesitant to break the silence.

"Hmm?" he says, looking up from the Tetris game he had started playing on his phone about 20 minutes ago.

"When you said it got better.. Where you telling the truth?" I asked. He thought for a second.

"I think better was the wrong word." he started, "I think… I think bearable would be the better term." I nodded and looked down.

"If you don't mind my asking.. When did it start for you?" I ask, looking straight at his icy green eyes. They were so full of emotion, of hurt behind the wall of hardness he's put up. It's there, clear as day. I wonder if anyone has taken the time to notice it..

"About a few years ago.. It got worse when.." he stopped short, breaking eye contact.

"When what?" I ask. He shook his head and stood.

"Never mind." he said, grabbing his backpack and starting to walk off. The heavy feeling was coming back, it was getting more difficult to breathe with every step he took. It's been so long since I've felt comfortable with someone. He knew my secret.. He didn't judge me. But now he was walking away and for some reason I didn't even want to think about handling it. I ignored the pain jolting through my body as I took long strides to catch up with him. I caught his arm and turned him to face me, turmoil boiled in his eyes.

"I won't judge you.." I say, he snorts and looks away. I roll my eyes. "_**Look at me.**_" I growl. His eyes snap to mine, hope surfacing behind the intense green chaos. "I. Will. Not. Judge. You." he sighed and pulled his arm from my grip.

"You want to know why I even tried to make contact with you? To help you?" I nodded cautiously. "It became worse for me when my dad found out I liked guys too okay?" I raised my eyebrows in surprise but said nothing, "when I saw the way you became a few weeks ago, I knew something was wrong. You were like the school's personal fucking sun dude. People gravitated towards you. And it's like lately you've dimmed. You're not as happy, as bright. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a physical attraction to you. But when you got quiet, I was worried. I've never been fucking worried for someone outside my immediate group of friends in my life. And when I saw you're dad walk out of the bathroom all pissed off and then heard you throwing up, I knew what he did. I knew because it's happened to me so many times." he finished, breathing heavily. I tried to find words, anything to say to let him know I didn't judge him, that his confession wasn't in vain, but the words wouldn't make it out of my mouth. He looked expectant and when I said nothing, he sighed turning to walk away

"No wait!" I say, reaching for his arm again. I couldn't lose him. Something in me told me I couldn't. I didn't want to. I've never been attracted to guys but he's different. I won't lose him, not when the feeling is this strong. He looks at me and his eyes are a mix of all kinds of emotions. My heart rate speeds up as my hand tentatively reaches up to brush his cheek. He lets out a breath and I look at his lips, debating whether I should do this or not. My stomach clenches in a strange, wonderfully painful way as I lean closer, knowing that I have to. That I _want_ to. My lips brush his and he stays still, letting me take control and something in me breaks.

_He's being submissive. _I've been the submissive for so long, in everything. I press harder, molding my lips to his, willing him to open them as I delve into his mouth. I pull away when the need for air is too much and his eyes are somewhat glazed over, lips red and bruised.

"Come somewhere with me." he breathes. And I nod.

"Okay."_

* * *

_

**Welp. That was unexpected. I meant for Mike to not be a big character here but… well you read it right? Not sure how this will play out now but Scottie will be a big part as well. That part is forsure. What do you think?**

**Links for Mike and Scottie on my profile.  
**


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